I Like Listening… But I Wish I Felt Heard Too
There’s a kind of loneliness that doesn’t always look lonely.
It looks like listening. Like nodding along, showing up, asking questions, remembering the little things. It looks like caring — and I do care. I care deeply when people talk about things they love. Even when I don’t understand it, I stay. I ask. I try. Because their excitement means something to me.
But when it’s me?
When I finally decide to share something — something I’m excited about, something I’ve been holding onto, waiting for the right moment — they’re not really there. They zone out. Cut in. Change the topic. Even if it’s something I know they’re into… they just don’t listen.
And that’s the part that hurts the most. Not just that they don’t care about the topic — but that they don’t care it’s me talking.
So I start holding it in. Not because I want to, but because it feels safer than the silence that follows when I speak.
I think that’s the part people don’t see. They see someone quiet and think I’m just shy or distant. But the truth is… I’ve just been made to feel like my voice is background noise.
And it’s not just talking. It’s crept into my writing too — which used to be my space, my outlet. I used to pour myself onto the page like it was the only place I was allowed to be loud.
Now… I don’t write much. I read. I scroll. I stay quiet.
Because even the blank page started to feel like a room I wasn’t invited to speak in.
Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like — to be really heard.
Not out of politeness. Not just when it’s convenient.
But fully. Genuinely. Like someone wants to understand, not just respond.
There’s so much I’ve never said. Not because I didn’t want to… but because I never believed anyone would stay long enough to listen.
So if you’re still here — if you made it this far — thank you.
You might not know it, but you just did something rare.
You stayed.
And maybe that’s all I ever really needed.
And if you’ve ever felt this way too…
You’re not alone. Not in this.
Sincerely,
someone who listens a little too much and speaks a little too quietly
P.S. Ugh. I still feel like I didn’t quite find the right words.
Like I was circling something deeper — something I feel so strongly but still can’t explain.
Some feelings just don’t fit into neat sentences.
They sit there, heavy and tangled, waiting for someone to understand the parts I couldn’t say out loud.
Anyway, sorry about the grammar and everything. Still improving my English😩